#vxtus

[wcrriorisms]

Mancudera, Cat’s Paw & Garrote

Mancudera: What is the most physical pain your muse has felt?

ahhhhhh shit. I think she shattered her arm in several places once. 

Cat’s Paw:  What is your muse’s reaction to gore?

"t'at's gross."

Garrote: Your muse must kill someone. How do they do it?

With one of her numerous knives. 

[wcrriorisms]

#let me suck ur blood and i'll suck ur dick

[slxtter-blog]

vxtus

Ginger hadn't noticed Mitchell. She hand't noticed anything since Bridgette. The smaller werewolf, now dead across her lap, face mauled, entrails laying upon Ginger's pale thighs. The sound of her cage clanging open didn't distract her, and she only spared a glance to Mitchell, fangs still retracting as she spoke.

                                  "Bee," She chocked out. "They got Bee," 

[gcldenblood-blog]

vxtus

She sat, small hands curled around a cardboard cup, one of the lights flickering, the constant hum of the halogen lights above worsening her headache. Exhausted, she sighed, a hand coming up to move through her hair.

                       His heart had failed while he slept, but she kept him breathing, kept                        him alive until the ambulance came, screamed at doctors, held his                        hand while his heart maintained it's forced, slow beats. He wouldn't                        have lasted the night. It was a selfish snap decision. She couldn't                        lose him. Hadn't she lost enough?    Would he thank her or loathe her? While he remained untouched by time,   she' be ripped apart by it. He'd live to see his wife wrinkle and decay, to   draw her final breath in her sleep, and know that his death could not be so   peaceful.                  Now it was quiet. Eerily so. She licked her lip, forcing words out                 after another mouthful of cold and bitter 'coffee'.                                   "He's going to be miserable, isn't he?"

[yxungest-blog]

"Wake up, buttercup."  She prodded at his cheek  with a white baton. It was, probably, an inappropriate way to speak to the vampire she'd been assigned to,  but she wasn't in any danger.   Teska  had  been experimented  on  herself,   implanted  with  a  sickly sweet smelling canister to ensure the scent of  her  blood was  completely  blocked out. Plus, she'd spent too long around him to be anything other than fearless.

"Your armor's here,                wanna go blow up some rebels or what?" 

[slxtter-blog]

vxtus 

"Did you know I'm old enough to drink here? How cool is that! Look how much vodka I got!"

                     She's giddy, far too giddy to be sober. And, as usual,                      she'd let herself into Mitchell's shared house without                      an invitation. At least she didn't break a window this time.

[iamnotthethief]

The Hostel

Night had already fallen when Elliot made it down to the main floor of the hostel. Snow was layering against the windows, shutting out the light that came from the streetlamps. Inside it was dimly lit; everything was made of dark hues to supposedly keep the place homely but she always thought it made everything more sinister. 

Her feet took her to a side room from the main hall where a bar was set up. The tender gave her a nod, signifying her to let him know when she needed the special ingredient. There were quite a few newcomers this night, most likely driven in by the weather. She lingered in the doorway, trying to decide which would be easiest to seduce. It's not like she wanted to but it was them or her and she so enjoyed living. 

Finally she gave up, taking a seat at the bar next to some man she hadn't seen before. He was as good a start as any. 

"Cold night, isn't it?"

vxtus

[slxtter-blog]

plaid monstrosity - the story of john mitchell